The Secret Love of Grapple and Scrapper
by Ayngel
Summary: Soon after his arrival on Earth, Grapple confesses his feelings for a certain Constructicon in a secret journal.
1. Chapter 1

One of my favourite pairings! Soon after arriving on Earth, Grapple confesses his feelings to Scrapper in a secret journal

_Disclaimer - I don't own Transformers, or make any money from this story_

Warnings - severe fluff and promise of crossfactional smut/romance

**~THE SECRET LOVE OF GRAPPLE AND SCRAPPER~**

**By Ayngel**

"I understand from the 'talk' among the Decepticons that within the first few cycles of their awakening on this planet the Constructicons, under Scrapper's leadership, build a machine which would isolate the Decepticons' special powers. They not only accomplished this, but went on to design many other intricate devices, including the Transfixatron, the Negavator and many others. They also mastered solar and core energy collection, space bridge schematics, intricate weaponry, drone reproduction and even tactical illusions designed to confuse the enemy. Yet never have they lost that sense of the aesthetic, the beautiful, the precise.

All this does not surprise me of course. Always they were uniquely creative designers and superb technical artisans. One has only to review the archives, the splendid footage of the great crystal city, the spires and archways of the Towers and the domes and bridges of Iacon to see this. So tragic that they fell into the designation they did. So wasted, their magnificent talents on destruction, and not on the pursuit of architectural genius, of building a beautiful Cybertron.

Of course, they, themselves are far from unpleasing to behold. It has always surprised me that most wear those masks, when they are gifted with such striking features. This does not apply to Hook or Bonecrusher of course, who are eager to promote themselves, liking the power and reactions their handsomeness inspires. Scavenger is a nervous mech, who covers his face for protection, Longhaul is shy, and Mixmaster would prefer to hide the signs of his indulgence, the inevitable sampling of his ingenious concoctions.

And Scrapper? My beloved is just plain modest. Such genius, such talent, such beauty; and yet, he prefers to hide his face. He doubts himself, and it makes me sad, although perhaps, I should not be. Perhaps, for me, this is a good thing? As with the 'face of an angel' as I truly believe the humans would say, he surely might be mobbed by his Decepticon peers, and myself not only relegated to a lesser place, but his psyche damaged, this not being akin to his nature at all. Perhaps this also, is why he hides.

He is so beautiful! Just the thought of his lovely face, his crimson optics, his green and purple hues and sturdy frame send me into a mass of wretched despair! The longing I have to be by his side is almost too much to bear. It is why I write this. My secret, never to be revealed journal, It is the only friend I have, my true confidente. For all that I love my Autobot companions, never could I tell them this, they would never understand. Not even Hoist. Especially Hoist! Whose silence and uncharacteristic moodiness of late bears all too many signs of the dismay and jealousy associated with what I am most sure of: that he suspects.

I am going to see Scrapper again. I am going to fill him with my thoughts on what he already knows, that he is clever, and handsome, and wonderful, and that even though he steps back, allowing Hook's insufferable ego to take credit for much of what he achieves, I know he is the mastermind behind it, the true maestro. I long to tell him that I adore him, that he is a great leader. For who else cares for their team like he, practices such justice, such equality? Onslaught? Motormaster? They are a joke beside his talents. Even our own gestalt leaders pale beside his understanding, his generosity, his unique understanding of team work yet willingness to cater for each individual spark.

Today, I found a secret place. There I will take him, and I will show him the depth of my feelings, how despite the passage of time, these are unchanged. We will walk together in the forest, maybe, and talk of better times, and I will tell him everything. We may be factions apart, but we share a common bond, a love of our work, of creation and excellence, of precision and beauty. Fate has ordained that we will never be together. But I do believe, please by the grace of Primus, the Matrix and the Holy Realm, that we will never truly be apart.


	2. Chapter 2

Soon after arriving on Earth, Grapple confesses his feelings to Scrapper in a secret journal. Scrapper, on finding he's arrived, proceeds to do the same.

_Disclaimer - I don't own Transformers, or make any money from this story_

**Warnings** - severe fluff and promise of crossfactional smut/romance. This chapter has mention of sticky sexual acts.

* * *

**~THE SECRET LOVE OF GRAPPLE AND SCRAPPER~**

**By Ayngel**

* * *

**Chapter 2  
**

It gives me great pleasure to report that my partners were correct in their assertions, and Grapple is here.

I'm gonna write it: GRAPPLE IS HERE. Yesssssss!

As usual, I should have paid attention. "Chill out," Bonecrusher kept saying. "Y'know lovercrane's gonna show up." Then there was Scavenger. "Don't be a dumbaft, Scrapper!" he said. "How else are the Autobots gonna get stuff built?" Even Longhaul told me to quit my whining, he'd show.

This made sense. Autobots haven't really built anything since they got here. No fine edifices or sweeping structures, not even a new base. They didn't even get the Ark out of that mountain. They've needed Grapple. And now they have him.

Hook also said he'd arrive, although somewhat without the same degree of enthusiasm . "So what?" he said. "It's not like you can be together, is it?" Then he told me to get over it, to move on, to get on with being a leader. Blah blah blah. Etcetera. It was Hook who spotted him today.

Ironic. Now, Hook's pissed. When they came in, he threw the plans for the underground spypost at me. "Guess who's shown up?" he snarled. We didn't talk after. Now it's the 'silent treatment.' The Hook _piece de resistance. _Grapple here = _Hook turns into a sulky moron._

Well the hell with it. I can't deal with Hook just now.

After Hook reported this 'news,' I had to get a peek myself. How could I not do that? Besides, you never know with Hook. He could've been saying that to wind me up, though the way he was carrying on, I didn't think so.

No – and the others, the way they were said it all. They were excited - into each other. Scav and Bonecrusher, Longhaul and Mix. That's how they _get _when I'm doing Grapple. That's how I knew him being here was the real deal. That, and Hook being like that.

So I went out there. Right near the Ark. Had a hard time not crunching on the gravel. Construction mechs ain't built for stealth.

Then I felt like a jerk. He was hardly gonna be where Hook said he was all this time later, was he? And how embarrassing if I went and got myself captured.

He wasn't there. *Frag !* But Hoist was. Yeah – Hoist. The 'best friend.' Ugly as ever, like a barrel on legs. Pain in the aft, he is. Possessive. But hey - seriously - I was pleased to see the guy. If he's here then that was the final proof that Grapple has to be here. And I kinda feel sorry for the guy. There's no way Grapple'd ever get it on with him.

Well – he'd better fragging not! Calm down, Scrapper. Deep intakes . No way in the universe.

But I can't delay, need to know that for sure, need to see him again.

After I've written this, I'm gonna go back out there, and wait till he comes out. I'll put cloth on my feet. It sucks – not the cloth, but that its all I'll do – look. But it'll have to be. I need to think up a strategy, here. Not just check out his chassis – though frag, course I'm gonna be doing that!

No, seriously, I need to see how he looks, acts, etc. I'll be able to tell what's in his glorious creative processor. It isn't just Hoist. With Grapple, I'll have to play it cool.

He's crazy about me – oh yeah; I know that, Hoist pales in comparison. But I'll bet my stars he resists. Hook's right – we can't be' together. Can't do the old Autobot stuff, see – all fluffy kiss each other goodnight every night on the double berth.

I'm not saying I wouldn't consider it. But here? Now? I hardly think so! He won't like that. He won't like it, or the fact that we can't proclaim our undying love to the universe.

He will be all right at first. Then he will get emotional. Then he will resist me. He may even resist me from the start, knowing that he's going to get emotional. But I will be ready. He'll soon see that we just have to make the best of what we can get.

It's complicated, I guess. My poor sensitive Autobot! How he hates his life being complicated. Sorry, Grapple, I'm gonna complicate it.

But today – just looking. There's other stuff I gotta work out how to deal with. Hook. He's still pissed. It's gotten worse, since I started writing this. I can feel it. Not good.

Why the frag does he only ever get like this when Grapple's on the scene? What happened to: "Much as I hold you in high regard, as far as anything else goes, we're gestalt partners. That's all. Got it?" All my trying to 'get it' and not want more. And now this.

I don't think Hook's jealous. It just ain't that way. Much as I wanted it that way. It's ironic – if it _was _that way, it might've stopped this thing with Grapple. Maybe. But no, Hook just is not that way about me. He needs me, I think. Or maybe its his own broken sparkbond, makes him feel the loss. I don't know. Hell, I don't KNOW! Get out of my headspace, Hook.

Scav and Longhaul just went to see Hook. They're happy, and energised. Nice afterglow. They can cheer him up. Maybe. I hope.

All I wanna do is work this out with Grapple. I'm starting to feel like I'm aching inside now, my spark churning in its casing. Better compartmentalize. Don't want the others sensing this. Especially not Hook. But none of them. Not even Scavenger.

I only know I have to see him soon. I know what I need. Grapple adores me, for everything I am. He believes in me. It's not just that I'm useful, or necessary, or part of his team. I need his adoration. I need his faith. I need him to tell me and show me that. I need to hear his voice again, feel the stroke of his hand on my plating. I want him to clutch at me, feel him surge with my spike deep inside him.

Cons ain't supposed to need such stuff. But I do.

And I want so much more. I want to hear the news - about the war, about his achievements. About what goes on, elsewhere in the universe, the changes, the breakthroughs, the victories, the new worlds and new cultures and designs. Who better to tell me than him? Such a long, long time we were asleep. So much I missed out on.

But hey - are we gonna make up for lost time.

I'm going out there now. To start this rolling – right now. Wish me luck!


End file.
